Cloud Nine
by Rayne McKenna
Summary: Just a nice little one shot I dreamed up...that's now apparently a three chapter tribute to Spencer's mouth...
1. Chapter 1

Derek is in sensory overdrive. Long fingers gently trailing his sides while unbelievably soft, luscious lips envelop his, tongues dancing, intertwining in the most passionate kiss he has ever experienced. He doesn't recall removing his clothes or how they wound up in bed but here they were, naked bodies pressed together in the most perfect way. The younger man breaks the kiss first, gasping for air, hips gyrating against Derek's as the most amazing sound escapes his sweet mouth.

Spencer moves down Morgan's body carefully kissing, licking and sucking the most vulnerable spots of his exquisitely toned torso. Morgan groans as his teammate's hot breath hits the hardened flesh he now hovers over, the anticipation more than he can handle. Spencer takes his cock tightly in one hand massaging, as his delectable tongue teases the swollen tip.

"Oh Christ…Spencer…_please_."

The young genius smiles up at him through a mess of long tendrils. He lowers his head and presses his tongue flat against the tender underside delivering one, long, slow, deliberate lick all the way back up to the tip.

"Mmmmm…Fuck yeah…"

Spencer lets out a pleased hum before diving down Derek's cock, taking it all the way to the hilt. He rolls his tongue and sucks enthusiastically as his talented lips slide over the sensitive flesh.

"Holy shit…so amazing!"

Derek runs his fingers through the long hair as the owners head bobs up and down his shaft. He moans and hisses feeling his balls begin to tighten. He gently pulls back on the locks until his dick pops out of Spencer's mouth, slapping against his stomach. The thin man considers him with a lustful expression. Morgan sits up and pushes Reid back onto the bed. Lowering himself onto the slight frame, he assaults his mouth with an intensity that rips a moan from the younger agent.

Derek moves between Spencer's legs and, after some work, slides deep within his slender body. Reid cries out as Morgan pulls back before plunging in once again. Picking up the pace, Morgan reaches down and grabs a hold of the other man's cock stroking as he bucks into the grip, back arching up off the bed. Beautiful. When Reid starts thrashing and squirming as Morgan hits that magic spot, he grabs hold of the narrow hips pumping into him harder, faster.

"God Spencer…you feel so fucking good!"

"Morgan!"

He can feel his orgasm building once more and he knows the man beneath him is close too, chest heaving, breath catching as he shuts his eyes tightly biting his lower lip, failing miserably to stifle a scream.

"Cum for me pretty boy."

As if on cue, hot semen spurts out between them.

"Morgan!"

Spencer tightens around Derek and he can't hold back. It's too much. Thrusting several more times he explodes into the younger agent.

"Oh, God! Oh, fuck! Spencer! FEELS SO GOOD!"

"Morgan!"

Derek's eyes shoot open. Spencer is staring at him wide eyed, shock and embarrassment tinting his fair skin three shades of red. Eyes focusing, he looks around the jet taking in each team member staring at him with varying expressions of disbelief and amusement.

"Um, Is there something I need to know?" Hotch asks with a grimace.

"What?" He asks defensively sitting up.

"You were talking in your sleep." JJ says trying suppress a giggle.

"I don't talk in my sleep." Derek claims.

"Oh yes you do." Rossi corrects with a smirk.

"And apparently Reid is the man of your dreams." Prentiss laughs.

"Prentiss!" Reid bellows.

A horrified Derek shoots up from his seat to escape to the bathroom when everyone gasps at the incredibly obvious situation in the agents pants.

"Oh God." Reid says dropping his face in his hands.


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay, wasn't planning on going on with this but I hope it's a descent enough continuation. I've been sick and my head is a bit fuzzy from meds. Hehehe. Hope you enjoy. **

….

The case is finally over after three, long, grueling days of profiling, tracking, interviewing and a couple of lucky breaks. They brought down the bad guy, saving the two women he was holding hostage, and everyone is more than ready to get back home.

As busy as the case had kept them, the behavior of their two, younger, male agents hadn't gone unnoticed. They had both gone out of their way to avoid everyone when they could, and even farther out of their way to avoid each other. But who could blame them? What had become fuel for the teams banter was apparently so much more than that. Considering Derek's background and reputation and Reid's already scrutinized private life, it's no wonder that they're both having a seriously hard time dealing with the constant quips and probing glances of their teammates. Spencer actually looked like he was going to slug Rossi at one point before storming out of the hotel.

The flight back is a quiet one. Most of the agents sleep but Morgan stares out his window, headphones blaring, arms crossed, while Reid sits at the farthest end of the jet with his head down, nose in a book. The next few days are no different. They only speak when spoken to, only make eye contact when absolutely necessary and never with each other. It's getting ridiculous.

When they get called in that weekend for a local case, Reid decides to take his car, as there wasn't enough time for the train. When he gets about a mile, his check engine light comes on and he pulls off the road as it sputters and dies.

"Damn it! Great." He says under his breath.

He calls Hotch who assures him he's on his way. When they hang up, he scribbles down Reid's location and hands the sheet to Morgan.

"What's this?"

"Reid broke down. I need you to pick him up and go check out Shelia Bradford's hotel room."

"What? Hotch, I…"

Hotch gives him a stern look.

"Morgan, what ever this is, _deal_ with it." He says before walking away.

"Shit."

When the SUV pulls up, Reid hurries toward the passenger side and freezes when he opens the door. Averting his eyes at once from the driver, he hesitantly climbs in and Derek makes a U-turn heading North. He reaches down and grabs a file handing it off to Reid, who is more than happy to have something to divert his attention from the incredibly awkward silence. After a while he looks up from reviewing and realizes they weren't headed to the office.

"Where are we going?'

"The Ritz-Carlton. Latest victim had a room there."

Reid says nothing more but silently curses their supervisor.

The two drive in silence all the way, just focused on the roads and a case file that had been read 20 times over. After arriving and speaking with the concierge, they entered the elevator heading to the sixth floor. To their horror, as the doors slide shut, the on board music is 'Dream Lover' by Mariah Carrey. Both stand plastered against opposite sides of the small space, heads down, pretending not to notice that the universe is undeniably cruel.

Practically leaping from the confined space, Reid leads the way to room 610. Standing by, he waits for Morgan to gain access to the suite. After twenty minutes of assessing what they can from the contents of the room, they call Garcia with a few details and finally turn to leave.

Out in the hall, Morgan stops mid stride.

"Reid…" He says in a defeated tone.

Spencer takes a few more steps before stopping. He glances back.

"Yeah?"

"Look, um, I'm sorry…about what happened."

The younger agent winces a little, really not wanting to have this conversation.

"You don't have anything to be sorry for. It was just a dream right?"

"Yeah. But…"

"I mean, it's not like you actually want to have _sex_ with me."

Two people rounding the corner behind Derek clear their throats and move past them to their room, giving unmasked looks of disapproval to the pair. Reid blushes fiercely as Morgan runs a hand over his head and down his face. They couldn't catch a break.

"It was just a dream Reid. A very strange, out of the blue, crazy dream. I'm really sorry."

"You mean a very embarrassing, inconvenient, poorly timed, freakish, nocturnal phenomena right?"

Derek gives him a long, hard look.

"Yeah, once again, sorry." He says flatly, moving past him.

"Wait, Morgan, I apologize. I didn't mean to….it's just that…I…"

Spencer blows out the air in his lungs and snaps his mouth shut not knowing how to express what's going on inside him. How many levels of messed up the whole thing is.

"Don't worry Reid. I get it. Heard you loud and clear. We should get back." Derek says stalking away toward the elevator.

'What the hell just happened?' Spencer wonders.

They got back into the elevator and by the time it stopped one floor down for an older couple, Derek's patience and stress level were nearing their limit. Suddenly, he reaches over and pulls the infamous red button bringing the moving death trap to a screeching halt.

"Morgan! What the hell!" Reid yells, eyes large with growing panic.

"It's really that awful for you?" Derek hollers.

The older gentleman reaches forward to fix the problem and Morgan gives him a warning glare, sending the man shrinking against the back of the tight space with his flustered wife.

"Morgan, can we not do this _here_?"

"I realize you're embarrassed too, but even though you were the unwitting star, you still weren't the one that HAD the dream!"

"Seriously Morgan, this is not the time or place…"

"God, you act like what happened is the most appalling, disgusting thing imaginable!" Derek gasps.

"What? No! It's just that, everyone had to be there and then you reacted with… in your pants…right there! Plain as day! And now everybody thinks that we're…"

"Fucking! I know! I got that!"

"Now listen here…" The old man starts.

"Shut up!" The two agents shout in unison.

"Still, treating me like I'm…repulsive…like the very thought of it makes you…avoiding me like I'm a goddamn leper! I _know_ how you feel! Point taken! Isn't this overkill?" Derek screams.

"Please! Like _you_ could ever be repulsive! And I'm not the _only one_ doing the avoiding! You acted so _horrified_, you couldn't even _look_ at me! Like the fact it was skinny, little, geek Reid in your dream was beyond excuse! And as if that wasn't what everyone was _thinking_! How _should_ I feel!"

"Yeah Reid, _THAT'S_ what everyone was thinking. And that's why I was sporting a raging _hard on_! Because I was horrified it was _you_! Forget the fact that it was only the _fifth_ time I've had that damn dream or that every time I wake up after I feel a serious need to show up at your apartment and…"

Spencer lunges forward and kisses him. Derek's head is spinning but finds himself returning the kiss with equal fervor. Mad, passionate, hungry. The next thing they know, the elevator is opening to the lobby, and the witnesses to their temporary insanity are shoving past them out of the elevator, screaming for a manager. The two men break apart, staring wide-eyed and breathless at one another for a few moments before rushing out of the building.

…**.**

**Yes, I realize I seem to have an affinity for elevators when it comes to super sexy make out sessions with these two, but it was too convenient and just dramatic enough. So, you'll find no apologies here. Of course that could also be the drugs talking. Now, back to my Yellow Submarine… :D**


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry. I kinda forgot about this story…ha! Too much going on lately! Um, it's sort of a short finale but I didn't want to drag out what should have been a simple one shot with too many details and lengthy chapters. I'll save those for more involved stories. Thanks for reading/reviewing/support! I love you people! :D**

To say that the ride back from the hotel was uncomfortable would be the understatement of the century. The two men stare straight ahead, eyes wide, glazed and unblinking. The tension is nearly unbearable. What had happened just a few minutes prior wasn't processing for either of the men. If it weren't for the lingering proof in their pants and the suffocating weight of the silence between them, each might have questioned the very reality of what had transpired. Derek goes to say something and shuts his mouth when the words wont come. Then Spencer starts to say something but Morgan's phone rings and he's slightly relieved.

"Yeah Hotch…not too much…we called Garcia…she's got it…oh…you're sure…okay, that's about two minutes from here…on our way."

Derek checks the mirrors before crossing three lanes and hanging a left at the next light.

"Well that has to be some kind of record. They already trailed the unsub to a residential area." He says as they turn.

They park one street over where the others had. Once their vests are secured, they creep along to their destination where the team was currently waiting.

"What's the plan?" Derek asks approaching.

"I need you and Reid to take the back. We move in on my signal." Hotch orders.

Derek and Spencer nod moving toward the back yard. Spencer reaches their post in the back first.

"Reid," Derek whispers and Spencer turns to face him.

Just then a man comes through the back door. Before Spencer can turn or Derek can get a clear line of fire, the unsub gives a brief look of shock and acts fast pulling the young agent against him, bringing his gun to his temple. Spencer swallows hard and winces as Derek's stomach tightens and lurches.

"Toss it." The man says in Reid's ear.

Unwillingly, he discards his weapon.

"Put the gun down." The man demands quietly at Derek.

"I can't do that." Derek says softly through gritted teeth.

"You will or you're a man down." He threatens, inching he and Reid down the back steps toward the narrow gate in the fence line.

"You shoot him, I shoot you."

"Is his death really worth it?" The man growls.

Derek's mind is racing. All of his training and experience seems to fly right out the window as he searches through possible solutions to this stand off. He has to do something before Reid is taken or worse. He knows if they make it out that gate that Reid would be a temporary and very expendable insurance policy at best. Before he even knows what he's doing the words were coming.

"Hey Reid, what was the last thing you ate?"

"What?" Spencer and the unsub ask in confused unison.

"Just curious. Your mouth tasted like cherries when I had my tongue in it."

Spencer is stunned but quickly realizes that his captor is too as he stumbles a bit and his grip loosens briefly when he tries to catch his footing. He brings his arm up fast simultaneously dropping his body. Everything after that is a blur of rustling, screaming and gun shots.

"Reid! Reid, are you hurt?"

Spencer opens his eyes to find Derek hovering over him. Suddenly, the team was approaching from all angles, guns at the ready.

"N-no, I'm fine." He answers sitting up.

The unsub, Malcom Pardosa is on the ground writhing in agony.

"What the hell happened?" Hotch barks.

"The suspect got the drop on us and tried to use Reid as a shield." Derek summarizes.

"And you risked shooting him?"

"He was distracted. I saw opportunity and took the shot." Derek shrugs.

"Distracted by what?"

"Reid's mouth. Apparently it's pretty persuasive." Derek says holding back a smirk.

Spencer turns twelve shades of red.

"What did he…" Hotch starts but is cut off by the emergency crews storming into the yard.

When all is said and done, the team is back at the office early that evening. Hotch rubs his weary face and sighs.

"Go home." He says. "Enjoy what's left of your weekend. We'll finish up the paperwork Monday."

Everyone seems more than happy to comply and says their goodbyes as they shuffle out one by one. Spencer makes a b-line for the restroom and when he comes out to gather his things, finds Derek sitting at his desk. He hesitantly approaches and grabs his bag shoving several items in before slinging it over his shoulder. He gives a brief smile and turns to leave.

"Hey Reid," Derek says, as Spencer cringes and turns. "How about we make out?"

"What?" He exclaims.

"Woah, I said how about some take out?" Derek says, hands raised.

"Oh. Ah, I was just going to grab something at home." He counters, turning once more.

"I think maybe we have some talking to do."

"We do?"

"You don't think so?" Derek asks, quirking a brow.

"Um, I just didn't think that…I mean I thought you…"

"That's you're problem Pretty Boy. You think way to much." Derek says, now standing well inside the slender mans personal bubble.

"A-as apposed to?"

"Feeling…acting."

"I disagree. I think I've done enough of both for one day." Spencer says taking a tentative step back.

"Come on, we can argue semantics over dinner." Derek says throwing an arm around his shoulders. "There's a great Italian place by my house. We can pick something up."

"Morgan, I…" He glances over and meets Derek's eyes immediately losing his train of thought. In fact the train was completely derailed having flown off into some inexplicable cosmic nothingness never to be seen again. "Okay. Dinner. Great."

….

Hotch is finishing up the last of his paperwork for the night when his mail icon lights up. Scowling for the hundredth time that day, he clicks to access the message. It's from Calvin Brewster, regional manager of the Ritz Carlton Hotel. The email goes on to say that two of his agents had apparently caused a disturbance at their establishment. There is a file attached to which he reluctantly clicks. The section of video feed from one of their elevators features his two male subordinates yelling at one another in front of two frightened patrons before engaging in a serious tongue war that forces him to turn from the computer screen. He takes a deep breath.

"Well, you did tell him to _deal_ with it. At least they're talking again…or something to that effect." He mumbles, to himself too tired to give a damn at this point.

Turning back, he responds to the email with a lengthy apology and a promise of reprimand with mention of permanent records being involved. It was mostly bullshit but he wasn't about to stir up more trouble for the two men or split up the team…no matter how damaging that video had been to his retinas…or his psyche. He hits send, deletes the email, and shuts down his computer for the night. He supposes he should speak with them Monday. Maybe.

He seriously needs a vacation.

….

Arriving back at Morgan's place, he and Spencer set up their take out like a real dinner and Derek opens a nice bottle of red merlot. They eat and chat for a long while just like they did back when they were friends…mere hours ago. Aside from the candlelight, soft music and occasional lingering gaze, it's like any other hang time. By the third glass of wine, Reid finally has the courage to ask the question that had been burning at the back of his mind, and other places, for the last week.

"Derek?"

"Mmmm?"

"That dream, what was it about exactly?"

"I thought that was pretty obvious." He laughs.

"No, I mean it was, but, tell me about it."

"You sure you wanna open that can of worms right now?" He asks with an arched brow.

Reid makes a little thinking face.

"Yeah. I have to know what I, well, fantasy Spencer, was doing to get such an enthusiastic response from the great Derek Morgan. No. Wait. Yeah. Okay, tell me."

Morgan shoots him a mixed look of something between confusion, amusement and adoration.

"You sure now Pretty Boy?"

"Yup."

Derek tells him all about the reoccurring dream in graphic detail from start to finish. Through the whole thing Spencer is very quiet, considering his wine glass with a frustratingly indiscernible expression. Just when Morgan thinks he should have kept his mouth shut, the younger man calmly sips the remainder of his drink and stands. He takes the larger mans hand and leads him to the bedroom where Derek finds out three things about Spencer Reid. First of all, that eidetic memory of his is good for a hell of a lot more than just random facts and case solving. Second, when put at ease, a passion emerges from the young genius that is simply unparalleled. And third, the dream Reid didn't hold a candle to the real thing. Not even close.

They spend the entire night exploring each other in every way possible. Holding, caressing, kissing, teasing…hands, tongues, lips, teeth and flesh constantly at work on one another. They make love desperately at first with wild abandon, and then slowly, tenderly, with incredible intensity and care, bodies pressed so tightly together they seem to move as a single entity. Derek is endlessly amazed at how talented Spencer is in the bedroom. He guesses that mind is constantly calculating and calling forth a detailed knowledge of the human anatomy as he works Derek over with every part of his own body. He had never been with such a skilled and intuitive lover. When they finally collapse, both completely spent, they fall asleep in each other's arms only to awaken a few short hours later, having found one another in their sleep, kissing deeply and making love yet again.

When Derek wakes later that morning, studying the angelic features of the man sleeping against his chest, he realizes how lucky he'd actually been to have had that dream on the jet. At the time, it'd felt like the end of the world, but in truth, after all had been revealed, he saw what a small price had been paid to find himself here, head over heels, soaring high on cloud nine.

….

**Haha…yes, that tactic for resolving the hostage situation was silly and very unrealistic …but I couldn't resist! It's freggin' fan fic! And I, for one, would love to see that in the show. XD**


End file.
